Angry Birds
by Olivia Crane
Summary: Harry will never have an iPhone. Murphy helps soothe his pain. A funny little short, sort of Murphy/Harry. Please R&R! You'll enjoy it!


Just something that seemed like a fun idea for a short. Review, please!

"Murph. Hey, Murph. Whatcha doin?"

"Back off, Dresden, before you make my iPhone go all screwy. Geez."

It was the snowstorm of the century, and here we were, snowed in at MacAnally's Pub. Mac was here, of course, along with me, Murphy, and a young couple in the back, snuggling up against each other with mugs of hot coffee. Everyone else had had enough sense to stay home in the driving snow, which had come down fast while we were eating. We were all trapped inside now, for a day at least, by Murphy's estimation. She had something called an app on her phone that told her the weather.

Mac was digging around in the back storeroom for things we could use as pillows and blankets, and I was finishing my first beer of the night.

Murphy, looking bored yet focused, was fiddling with her phone. She'd had it off, but now, she was making me sit five feet away from her while she sated her boredom.

"Hell's bells, Murph. What's that god awful noise?"

Her phone was randomly emitting weird laughter, high pitched chattering, thuds, and crashes. It was driving me insane.

"I'll put it on mute." She pressed the screen with her finger and the noise stopped, mercifully.

Time passed silently, and I sipped my second beer, savoring it. The snow came around us in fluffy white drifts, and I could smell a beef stew cooking in the back. I propped my feet on the table, and felt myself begin to doze a little. Maybe getting snowed in wasn't so bad. At least I was relaxing, which was unusual…

"Damn it! Son of a mother bitch!" Murphy yelled, and I jumped up, shocked out of my nap. My hand found my blasting rod and I assumed a fighting stance.

"What? What is it?"

Murphy, once she was finished laughing at me, looked embarrassed at her outburst.

"Your game? You woke me up yelling at your silly game?"

Mac, who was wiping down the bar, snorted his disapproval.

"Sorry. But it's not silly. It's Angry Birds. Everybody's playing it.""Yeah, well, I think it's stupid.""Only because you can't play it." She countered.

"Shut up, Murphy." I mumbled. "It sounds dumb. It's not like it's Super Mario. That does make me sad that I can't play it."

"I like Skyrim." The boy from the couple in the back piped up.

"He plays it for hours." His girlfriend complained. "When that game came out, I barely saw him for two straight weeks."

"What's a Skyrim?" I asked, feeling annoyed.

"Sort of like your job, but on a video game." Murphy explained.

"Dude, what's your job?" The boy asked, agape.

I ignored him.

"Just face it, Murphy. Angry Birds is stupid."

"It's no Skyrim." the boy backed me up.

"It's no Skyrim." I agreed.

"Whatever, guys." Murphy said, and went back to playing her game. All was quiet until Mac, normally quiet as a pet rock, spoke up.

"Why are the birds angry?" he asked.

"Because the pigs took their eggs, see?" Murphy stood up and took her phone over to him, and before I knew it, Mac was Murphy's Angry Birds apprentice.

"It's still a dumb game." I said.

Murphy frowned. "It sort of sucks to be you, Dresden."

"Yeah, I know, but what does that have to do with anything?""You live in the greatest age of technology there's ever been, and you can't enjoy any of it. And it's only gonna get worse. Two hundred years from now, when people have hologram phones in their arms and flying cars, you'll still be hoofing it on the ground. Assuming they'll even have ground level streets anymore. I mean, just look how much things have changed in ten years. In 2001, I had a Razr. They were cutting edge, no pun intended. Now, those phones are less than garbage. Hell, even a first generation iPhone sort of sucks nowadays.""iPhone 4s?" The boy asked from across the room, gesturing to Murphy's phone.

"Hell's yeah." Murphy replied. "Mac, can I get some stew?"

He gestured to the kitchen with his head, and continued to play.

Murphy went back there, and returned with a tray of five steaming bowls of the best smelling beef stew I'd ever encountered.

Murphy took a bite, then pointed her spoon at me.

"And don't even get me started on the Internet.""I don't need it. I have Bob.""Well, what's gonna happen when all books and newspapers go electronic? It's already moving to that, you know.""Okay, I see your point. That does suck. Hopefully, by then, my good friend Murphy will keep me posted on all the stuff I'm missing out on. And maybe the Council will figure out something by then. Maybe hire non-magical informants or something. Then they can play Angry Birds for us, and tell us how fun it is."

Murphy frowned, and rubbed my shoulder, sympathetically. Or tried, at least. She's awfully short.

"It'll be okay. Sorry I'm bringing it up. It's not important." Then, out of nowhere, she smiled. "I have an idea. Mac, can I use the kitchen if I clean up everything?"

He nodded, eyes still glued to the screen.

"You're one of _them,_ now, Mac." I chuckled a little. "Gooble, Gobble, one of us!"

He grunted.

Murphy came back out of the kitchen a awhile later, with another tray. This one was full of chicken wings, Little Smoky sausages, and lots of other things. Drinking straws, popsicle sticks, plastic cups, sugar packets, you name it. She cleared off a table and started building little forts out of the random objects. She stuck the sausages in "rooms" of the fort. She smugly handed me a chicken wing.

"Here. Chuck this at it, and try to hit the sausage."

"That's what she said." I grinned. She elbowed me.

"You're a chauvinist pig, Dresden."

"Yeah, yeah. This game is still stupid."

"Then give me back my chicken wing." Murphy said.

"No, I wanna play." I said, and chucked it at the junk fort.

Part of it came crashing down, but three of the sausages, protected by stacks of popsicle sticks, remained unscathed.

"Here, you get three tries on level one." Murphy handed another chicken wing. "Wish I could make this like the real game. It has different birds that can do different things."

"Like what?"

"There's a bomb bird, that blows everything up. And a red one that's normal." The boy explained, as he and his girlfriend came over to join us.

"The yellow one is more precise, and hits harder than the others." His girlfriend explained.

"And the Mighty Eagle takes out everything at once, but it's sort of cheating."

"Cheating, eh?" I grinned a wicked grin.

"One bomb bird, coming up." I tossed the chicken wing into the air, and gathered my will. "Ruptis fuego!"

A tiny blast took out two of the remaining three sausages.

"What the-" The boyfriend started to say, but I cut him off.

"I'll explain later."

"Cheater." Murphy laughed, accusatorily.

"_Innovator." _I corrected, and threw one without magic, and completely missed.

"Damn. I'm out of tries."

"Mighty Eagle." Mac suggested from across the room, and I nodded.

"Mightius Eagilus Murphius Irritatus-" I vamped, waving my arms dramatically.

"Show off." Murphy muttered.

"Ventas servitas!" I finally said, and knocked the rest of the fort down with a small gust of wind.

"Who's next?" I asked.

The young couple stared on wide-eyed, Mac continued to play Angry Birds, and Murphy was laughing.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead and gloat, Dresden." she said. "But level two is harder. Hey, Mac! Do you have any cardboard boxes in the back?"

Review, por favor!


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